The Life and Times of Ginny Weasley: Sixth Year
by CoolGirlEmily
Summary: Ginny is just a normal 6th year, right? She may be a smidge on the sarcastic side, but other than that she's your average witch! ... so why is she pregnant with Harry Potter's child?
1. Of Harry and Mittens

Dah Disclaimer: Lala, I don't own Harry Potter! Surprise surprise! Unless J.K. turn's out to be my long-lost Aunt's Cousin's Mother's Butler's Drycleaner, I most likely never will anyways!

Dur, I'm so bad for making another story. But Fahla to that! Ooh, I get to go see Cats tomorrow. (TOMORROW, TOMORROW I LOVE-) Yay to Jellicle Cats.

Wait, I'm off topic.

ANYWHOO.

Urum. This is all in Ginny's POV: Plastic Orange View. Scratch that, Point of View. Ever since… forever she's been my favorite character, so she deserves some praaaise. Hallelujah to that, girlfriend!

Uhmyeah.

NOTE: Due not read unless thou hast read thy HBP.

-.-.-.-.-.-.

July 1st.

Ever feel so happy you could blow up into a million pieces?

No?

Well… I don't suppose you'd want to! What if you wouldn't be able to put yourself together, or turned into a puzzle? What would you do then?

I have no idea.

ANYWHOO.

I think, that I might be feeling that now. My stomach is fluttering about in a million pieces and I feel like I could BURST. Ouch.

GUESS WHO'S COMING. He's coming, he's coming, and the Boy-Who-Lived-Again is coming! All will dance and rejoice in the brightness of… the earth orsomethinglikethat.

Bighappysigh.

I want to jump up and do big pirouettes across the floor until I'm so exhausted I fall on the floor and miss dinner. Buuut. I'm not able to do that, for my room is the size of pygmy.

Okay, not that small, but it's TEENY, plus Hermione would probably stare at me like I'm crazy.

Oh, yeah, she's here too.

Looking at me.

Waiting for me to say something.

"That... nice," I said lamely. Hermione sighed heavily and rolled her eyes.

"Honestly, Ginny. The boy you love is coming, and reply 'that's nice?'"

I managed a weak smile, then furrowed my brow.

"I don't love him!"

_Or I'm not admitting it to anyone. _

"Well he loves you," said Miss I-Know-Everything-About-You-And-Harry-Ginny-Weasly.

My heart skipped a beat. I think. If my heart skipped a beat, wouldn't I be dead?

Harry can't love me.

Harry can't love me.

Harry can't _bloody_ love me. He broke up with me! It hurt, I admit it. But I must go on! Eighty cookies later and I was back to my exciting and infamous self.

Or not.

I just blushed and turned away again, leaving Miss Hermione Granger Smarty-Pants smug and keen crossing her arms over her chest.

"You aren't that daft, are you?" she asked incredulously.

"No! Harry does not love me, he broke up with me!" I said sitting down on my bed heavily.

"He broke up with you because he lo-o-o-ves you," Hermione crooned.

"No he doesn't!" I groaned into my pillow.

"What, do pray tell, are you doing?" A squeaky teeny voice came from the door.

Alright, not that squeaky.

Or teeny.

"Ron! You can't just come barging into a woman's room!"

"Woman?" snorted the offending thing in my doorway.

I sat up, giving my brother the Glare Of Doom. Not that it helped much, he was still smirking at me in that condescending way!

…

I just used the word condescending!

And _spelt_ it in my head.

Go Ginny, go Ginny

It's your birthday.

Do a dance!

Whoo hoo.

"I'm almost sixteen, Ron," I muttered darkly.

"And I'm seventeen," he retorted smugly.

Ooh, one year older.

"With half the wits!"

"But a better body."

I stopped.

Excuse me?

_Excuse me?_

"Excuse me?"

Thinking about my brother's body isn't very appetizing. Or appealing. Or both.

Before he could get something out of that stupid fat mouth of his, Hermione pushed him out the door. "Boys, honestly."

I pretended my fingernails were the most fascinating things on this planet, excluding ekeltricity.

"So, when's _he_ coming?" I asked, blowing hair out of my eyes while staring at my fingernails. Believe me, it's rather hard to do.

"Tomorrow," She said in a stupid sing-song voice.

Oh, so Harry's coming tomorrow.

No big deal.

Not a big deal at all.

I will not scream and fall off my bed making my family coming up stairs to see who got killed.

No.

I won't at all.

Oh.

I did.

"GINERVA WEASLY!"

Wow, that woman's got a set of lungs.

"WHAT IN MERLIN'S NAME ARE YOU DOING UP THERE?" I turned to Hermione, who was silently giggling behind her hands.

The child.

"NOTHING MUUUM!" I shouted.

"THAT WAS NOT _NOTHING_. YOU BETTER STOP BEFORE YOU HURT YOURSELF."

I remained silent.

Mum doesn't need to be mute by the time she's… older.

Or.

I do not want to become deaf in my teen years.

I'll choose the latter, thank you!

"Will you stop laughing, you git?" I hissed at Hermione.

She straightened up and smiled at me.

More like smirked.

She smirked at me with that stupid and ridiculous smirk she has.

She could give Malfoy a run for his money, the prat.

"Fine!" I whispered, "I may really, really, really _care for him_, but, that's it! I can't in a million years, in a million centuries, love _him!_"

"Love who?" came a serious voice. I turned in my doorway and say a boy. A boy, who looked like a man, with shaggy black hair. And emerald green eyes.

Oh.

My.

God.

Hermione, I'm going to kill you.

"Hermione, I'm going to kill you."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

I'm going to kill Hermione, I will strangle her with my bare hands if I have to.

But first, I must go get gloves.

…

So they can't find any fingerprints, duh!

I stormed past Harry and started my way up the stairs to the attic.

"Ginny? Where are you going?" he called after me.

"To get some gloves!" I answered back.

He ran up the stairs right by me.

And grabbed my arm.

I swallowed REALLY LOUD.

"Why do you need gloves?" He asked, confused.

D'aaaww, he looks so adorable when he's confused!

"I can't kill Hermione if I don't have any gloves. For, then there'd be evidence!" I ran up the stairs, and then stopped at the top, only to see him staring up at me.

Staring at me.

Yay.

"Um, want to help?"

He shook his head and laughed.

"Ginny Weasly, you amaze me."

"I know," I grinned.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"Can you believe this? Six boys, and not one pair of gloves! Did my brothers just freeze their hands off in the winter?" I asked.

This is so frustrating.

I've been up here foreeever.

Maybe that's why my brothers are so dumb.

They never had gloves so the blood never rushed properly to their heads.

… because their hands were cold?

"What'd you do for gloves at Hogwarts?" Harry asked.

Oh shoot.

"I… stuck my hands in my pockets…"

"Aha!"

Stupid Harry. Fear me and my tongue-sticking-outness.

Beat that.

Aw man.

"No fair!" I pouted.

"Are you mad because my tongue's bigger than your's?" Harry asked, chuckling.

"It's not fair! You are a man!"

Men have bigger tongues. It must be proven somewhere…

He cocked an eyebrow.

"I have a bigger tongue," Harry repeated." I nodded firmly. "That helps me… how?"

"Women have smaller tongues. AND," I added, shooting a look at him, "I _am_ a woman, thank you very much!"

He snorted.

"I would hope so."

_OH._

_So that's how it's going to be Mr. Hot Stuff?_

Awkward silence.

"Twinkle, twinkle little star…" I started singing.

_What?_

I happen to like that song. It's got a nice melody.

"How I wonder what you are…" Harry looked at me, and sang softly.

…

"You know, you really _suck_ at singing."

He snorted and looked around.

"What happened to your ghoul?"

I cringed. Ooh, Marty the ghoul.

I'll miss Marty. He was my buddy when I was lonely. We'd play catch! One time, he threw a pipe at me.

That wasn't a fun catch game.

But.

Well.

You see.

"Fred and George," I blurted.

"Ah." Harry nodded.

This is USELESS. There are absolutely ZERO GLOVES in this house.

"I'm done." I stood up and dusted off my pants. I helped Harry up and we raced down stairs.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Did you know we have really narrow stairs?

My family's house, I mean.

Someone could just totally try to beat a certain someone down the stairs, then trip over her own feet, down the stairs, and the other person could trip over HER and land on top of her.

Then, they could gaze into each others eyes…

And…

"AHEM."

Damn.

"So THAT'S what you were doing in the attic."

"Harry, I never knew you had it in you!"

"Get your hands off my sister!"

"Ginny, what it Merlin's name are you DOING?"

My family really sucks, you know that?

Harry and I were like a spring.

One minute you're down.

The next, up.

There stood my family. In all their glory.

And Hermione.

But… she was standing in her smug glory. With her smirky smirk on.

Ron looked like he was about to kill someone.

Mum looked shocked.

And Fred and George where doing some weird dance going,

"Go Harry, go Harry, go, go, go Harry. YEAH!"

Believe me, it sounded a lot less manly.

"Ahem. Welcome home, Harry," said my Mum, flushed, "I just wanted to say that dinner is… ready."

OH YUM. I bet my Mum made potatoes.

With… roast beef.

That's Harry's favorite, you know. She always makes the special things for Harry. Because Harry is special.

Harry is super special. So special…

That no one can have him.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

A/N:

DORKY ENDING DORKY ENDING DORKY ENDING.

Cheee. I've always wanted to write a Ginny fic. Ginny rocks. She was an awesome character In Half Blood Prince. As I said earlier:

I'm going to go see Cats tomorrow. Yay! Except:

A; I have a lot of homework  
B; I'm getting home at 2 in the morning.  
C; Meeeemory. All alone in the moonlight! -stab- That song is like… death on wheels. Except, it doesn't have wheels. Eryeah.

Erum.

Ask questions! Questions about Me! My favorites! About the story! About random things! Questions are fun and make the life go round. Aye. Well. Have a nice day, (or night). Enjoy life. Read Harry Potter.

Review!

Reviewing is fun. I actually like to review. It makes other authors feel special and wanted.

/rambling/

Byyye!

-Miss Emily the Great Ruler of All


	2. Of Nightmares and Talks

A/N: I loooove you all. I thought I had it so my reviews would pop up in my email, but they didn't! I thought I was reviewless. It made me... I don't know. Haha. Buut then, I looked at my story and found it had seven reviews. Not too shabby! Now I just have to sweat and bleed... into another chapter. Kidding:D

On it being... a tad... silly (What do you mean a tad!), I thought the 6th book was quite saaaad, and depressing. So cheerful happiness is great.

Part of this will be... well, non-Ginny POV. We get to see... an evvviiil plan. Moo ha ha. I suppose I should feel bad that I'm making Ginny suffer.

Ooh/random note: Point of No Return is currently playing on my Launch. Phantom of the Opera… that's a great movie/musical/book whatever.

Anyways, thank for the reviews! Loved them. Have a nice day!

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

In a deep cavern, not known to anyone, were two men. One, was short and stout, with a bald head and a striking resemblance to a rat. The other, was a tall man, if you could call him that, with a fierce glare coming out of ruby red eyes. Standing tall and straight, he had the composure of a menacing snake.

The tall man breathed in deeply with the tip of his fingers slightly touching.

"Wormtail," he croaked, "Is it ready?"

The short man, now known to be going by Wormtail, nervously squeaked,

"Almost, Master. Only one more ingredient."

"Well hurry it up then!" said the man impatiently.

"It's done, Master," said Wormtail. He quickly poured liquid from the cauldron he was standing over into an empty jug. Then, he tottered over to the Man, and held it out to him, quivering.

The man took out his wand and pointed at the jug. The liquid instantly turned to vapor and twisted up, and seemed to disappear into his wand. Muttering a few words in an ancient language, to this day, not known to anyone, the vapor shot out of his wand and up into the sky.

Wormtail stared at him.

"That's… it, then?"

The man cruelly laughed,

"In due time, Wormtail, in due time."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

_AAAAAH._

Okay, got that out of my system.

I have to go talk to Harry.

Harry has dreams, right? Dreams about insane men who make insane potions… right?

_Right?_

I'm so sweaty. My hair is sticking to my forehead. Merlin. Ew. Harry's room is down the hall, so I take a right. Oh, yes, Harry got his own room this year, seeing as Fred and George now have their own flat.

We have a lot of extra rooms. Yay.

I open his door quietly and peek into his room. Shutting the door quietly, I sat on Harry's bed and poked him.

And then I said "BOO!" really loudly.

Okay, so I didn't say that, but I did say,

"Harry, are you awake? Harry? Harry!" Until he woke up. He finally did wake up, and when he did, he about had a spasm he did, when he saw me sitting on his bed.

"Ginny?" he hissed, "What are you doing in my room?" he reached for his glasses, and put them up. He sat up and scratched his head.

"Harry, I had a dream."

"It was just a dream, go back to bed," he yawned.

"But Harry, it was _scary_," I whined. I then pulled my best pouty face and looked up at him.

Because he's taller then me, duh.

"Can I sleep with you tonight?"

Harry choked.

"_What_?"

"I mean, it was a scary dream, and I don't want to go back in my room."

"You have Hermione," Harry argued.

"Like she's a ton of help," I rolled my eyes, and then pleaded, "Pretty Please with a pasty on top?"

"Fine, come here," he motioned for me to sit beside him.

Fweeeeee. I feel special, now.

I snuggled in beside him, and set my head on his chest. He tensed up and then relaxed in a second.

"What was this dream about, exactly?" he asked.

Um.

What was it about again?

Oh yeah.

"... There was a really tall, man, if you could call him that," I started.

A man?

He was like the spawn of the devil and an egg.

... because he was bald.

"... and a short man. Who was bald, and had really crooked teeth."

Harry raised his eyebrows.

"You're really observant," he teased.

"It's not funny!" I pouted.

"I'm sorry," Harry said with a booming laugh. I mean, really! He sounded… _old!_

"Shh! You'll wake up the whole household, you idiot!"

"I'm sorry, Ginny," Harry said again, "It's just… you looked so pitiful, with your lip sticking out. I really did feel bad for you," he wrapped his arms around me.

Harry.

Wrapped his arms, around me.

**SQUEE!**

I didn't care that we broke up.

I didn't care that he probably didn't care for me anymore, besides a sisterly feeling.

No I did not. You know why?

Because I was in eternal bliss.

Well, kind of.

---

"Ginny?"

"Hermione, when they wake up… they'll wish that they never woke up!"

"Ginny, come on, get up!"

"My goodness, shut up already!" I mumbled. I mean, really, why don't they just let me sleep in my own bed, my nice warm bed. I rolled over…

and bumped into someone.

What the heck?

One of my eyes peeked open unmercifully, only to see a flying scruff of black hair flying by me… and then into me.

"Harry, geroff!" I mumbled under the weight of Harry.

Really, that boy weighs much MORE than he looks. Well, I finally managed to crawl underneath him to sit up.

The pain came really fast. It started small in my head, and then made its way down to my toes.

It was a headache in my whole body. Or it felt like this.

"Ooh," I moaned, sounding like a dying old woman. I put my hand to my head.

Wow, that's a morbid thought.

Ron stopped looking like he was going to murder someone, and came over to me concerned.

"Ginny? Are you okay? Do you need Mum? Wait – you aren't hung over, are you? I told you, you are too young to be drinking!"

He gets more and more like Percy every day.

"Ron, no, I am not hungover," I said.

Ron eyed me suspiciously.

"Are you sure? Then why were you in the same bed as Harry? You two, no, you didn't…" Ron went all white and pasty looking. Kind of like Dad does, when Mum finds out that he's been enchanting the toilet again.

"Who knows, Ron? Now that you mention it, I don't really remember what happened yesterday," I grinned wolfishly, and stretched out over Harry.

"Do you?" I asked the shocked looking Boy-Who-Now-Has-Me-As-An-Accessory.

Harry just stared at me.

Spoil sport.

When Ron reached the point of actually turning purple, I decided to confess.

"Sorry. Nothing happened. I had a bad dream, got scared, and came in here. I must've fallen asleep."

"Is that it?" Ron said, giving me an evil eye.

I got up, the pain gone now.

"Yes, that's it. I'm going to go get changed, Ronald."

Hermione decided that she could live a little, and smiled. (Shockgasphorror.) My god, was that a smile I detected on Miss Granger's face?

I BELIEVE SO.

Anyways, I passed Ron, and went down the hall, him bellowing after me like a dragon,

"WE ARE GOING TO HAVE A TALK WHEN YOU COME BACK. GINERVA WEASLY, YOU KNOW WHAT TALK I'M TALKING ABOUT. DON'T WALK AWAY FROM ME!"

Um.

It was hot out, so I just put on a tee shirt and pants.

For anyone who was wondering.

So I went back to Harry's room… and the three of them were sitting in a circle.

Well, _all right_, it was more of a triangle.

"What are you three doing?" That shut them up real fast. Well, four can play this game.

"Fine, I see how it's going to be. I'll just be leaving, then,"

"No! We were talking about you, Ginny, actually," Ron smiled smugly.

Oh…

"Sit down."

I sat.

"Now, I don't know what is going on between Harry and you, but I don't like finding you in his bed."

Well, technically…

"I wasn't in his bed Ron, I was on it," I said crossly.

"You know what I mean!" Ron threw up his hands, annoyed.

Hermione leaned over facing Ron and touched his arm softly.

"Ron, I think Ginny knows what she's doing."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Ron sighed.

"Promise you weren't doing anything," he said.

"I promise, Ron," I said softly.

I know he's my brother, and I'm his only sister, not to mention his _only _sister, but does that mean he has to look after me day after night? I'm responsible.

Kind of.

Well, maybe.

I'm responsible enough to not shag the boy who just broke up with me before the summer.

But obviously Ron doesn't think so.

"Kids! Breakfast!" My mother shouted.

I smell bacon.

I love Mum's bacon; it's always so nice and crispy. Mum always makes pancakes with it, also.

My stomach growled at the thought.

Ron, Hermione, and Harry were coming out of the room fast, also.

They must've smelt the bacon.

I ran as fast I could down those steps. I wasn't about to _become_ a pancake! Mum was setting up plates at the table. She spotted me and shoved a pile in my hands.

"Set the table," she ordered.

"But Ron doesn't have to-"

"Ron, doesn't have friends over," Mum eyed me. "Are you gaining weight?"

…

What kind of mother asks their daughter if they're gaining weight! She has no reason to ask, also. I'm sorry, but she could do with shedding some skin.

"Mum! No, I have not, thank you very much."

Ron snickered in the background.

"Shove it, Ronald," I sneered.

Oh god, that smell is nauseating.

"Mother, please move the pancakes. They smell awful." I gagged.

"Ginny, you love my pancakes," Mum sounded hurt.

"I'm going to be sick."

Stairs.

Stairs.

Door.

Bathroom.

Thank god, I reached the toilet in time. I retched into it, not making very graceful noises. Ugh.

"Ginny? Are you okay?" I heard Harry's voice.

Great, he came in time for another round.

"I'll take that as a 'no,'" Harry chuckled.

Let me see how funny it is when you're puking over a toilet, bud.

Harry stood next to me and held up my hair.

"Why are you so sick?" He asked, drawing random letters on my back.

Aaah, that feels good. Dad used to do that all the time when I was little. Then I had to guess which letter it was.

"A," I replied.

"What?"

"A, the letter was A," I said finally done.

"Oh, yeah, I guess it was.

"Um, thanks for you know, holding back my hair. The last thing I need is hair covered in puke."

"Er, you're welcome."

I think I'm going to go, lay down now.

"Ginny?" Harry grabbed my hand on my way out.

"Yeah?"

Harry locked his emerald eyes onto mine.

"If you need anything, just holler, okay?"

I nodded.

"Okay, Harry."

A/N: FLUFF. –dies-. Okay, short chapter. Sorry everyone! Thanks for so many reviews last time, let's beat the record this time, 'kay? xD Just kidding. Uhm, not much happened in this chapter. Just… sickness. Haha.

Thank you, again, reviewers. I looove you. :3

Love, Emily.


	3. Of Sickness and Embarrassment

A/N: Oooh, thank you so much everyone for the reviews. I love you all! Oh, yes, I do. So, yeah! Guess what! I saw HP and the Goblet of Fire. And I have to say I loved it. So meh, to all those people who didn't. I guess, I was just happy they MADE the movie, and it _hilarious! _ Favorite scene: Harry sitting on the couch, sulking. It made my day. And then I cried at the end and my friends picked on me. Oh ho, yes I love my friends. They are just the nicest little buggers.

-cough- But thanks for the reviews. Ginny's going to be much more unhappy and sarcastic in this chapter, being stuck in bed. ; Next chapter: Hogwarts!

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or anything else in this chapter. Heck, I probably don't even own the comebacks I think of.

-.-.-.-.-.

It sucks to be me.

Do you know _why _it sucks to be me, Ginny Molly Weasly? I am stuck in this stupid, small, cramped, stuffy bed!

This bed hates me.

It has to.

I can't believe I used to like this bed. It's stupid. My bed is mentally retarded. Just like my homosexual robes.

Not that I have anything against mentally retarded or homosexual people! I would hope my robes are gay, otherwise my robes are perverts!

Anyways, everyone else is out playing Quidditch, even Hermione. How can Hermione play? She has no coordination whatsoever. Not that I'm one to talk, but at least I can stay right-side up on a broomstick.

Hermione can't, by the way.

Really, she _sucks_.

I'm not even that sick. I feel fine right now, but Mum put me on bed rest, saying:

"Ginerva Weasly (A cringe on my behalf), you threw up. If one of my children throw up, they are sick, you hear me? And don't you go off telling me you're becoming anorexic like those Muggles I hear about, I won't believe it for a minute."

Well, anyways, that was the end of That Conversation.

Note the capitals.

The only good thing about being stuck in bed is that Harry keeps coming up to my room and giving me chocolate chip cookies. He tried to sneak me some of Mum's pancakes, but it didn't work out so well.

I ended up being sticky for HOURS!

Most of the time I'm fine now, but other times I feel so nauseated I can't STAND IT. Ugh. Let me tell you this:

The Flu is Evil.

Again, note the caps.

So, hence my attitude; it sucks to be me.

It sucks to be broke and unemployed and turning sixteen. It sucks to be me.

"Ginny, are you awake?"

"Yeah," I replied.

The door to my room opened slowly, and Hermione poke her head into my room.

"I brought you some juice."

Rats.

"Oh, thanks," I said, trying not to let my disappointment shine through.

"Were you expecting someone else?" Hermione sniffed and set the tray she was holding on my lap gingerly. "I can go get someone else, if you'd rather have different company."

"Oh, stuff it, Hermione. You know I don't mind talking to you."

Silence.

"So, I heard you guys playing Quidditch," I said meekly.

"Hm? Oh, yeah. I'm really not that good. Not nearly as good as you are. Ron practically had to share his broom with me," Hermione flushed.

I grinned wickedly.

"Oh, not like that, Ginny!" Hermione said hurriedly, blushing even harder.

"Well, I'm sure he wouldn't mind sharing his-"

"Who wouldn't mind sharing what?"

Ron walked into my room also, (Did I say it was stuffy before?) and sat by Hermione.

"Oh, Hermione wouldn't mind sharing your-"

"Ginny!" Hermione jumped up wildly, "Remember that _thing _I told you about?"

"What thing?"

What is she going on about?

"The thing we were talking about," Hermione said slowly, a gleam in her eye.

"Ooh, THAT thing. Well, I'm sure Ron would want to know about that thing!"

"NO HE WOULDN'T!"

"Are you sure, because-"

"I'm positive!"

Well, by this time, Ron had left out of sheer terror. Hermione wasn't very happy, I suppose. It might have been a guess, but the way she kept trying to strangle me might have been a hint.

"Ginny!" she practically screamed.

"Please, you're being a bit scary."

"Ginny, please, just, no more of that."

"Haven't we been through this?"

Hermione heaved a heavy sigh. (Say that five times fast!)

"Just, please don't embarrass me in front of your brother."

"Why? It's because you like him, isn't it!" I shrieked with laugher. Ha, ha, ha.

"No! I mean, well, just, don't tell anyone!" Hermione buried her head into her pillow. "I'd be so embarrassed if anyone knew."

Well, everyone knows, anyways. I personally heard from Lavender, who heard from Parvati, who heard from Seamus, who told Dean, who heard from… me.

I leaned over and put my hand on Hermione.

"Hermione dear, I'm afraid everyone knows."

Hermione looked at me horrified, and almost tearfully.

"What do you mean, everyone knows?" She sputtered.

"Everyone except for Ron of course," I crossed my legs, "But we all knew he was a complete and utter idiot."

"Hermione?"

"Yeah?"

"What day is it today?"

"Monday."

"Oh, okay."

Wait.

Monday? It was MONDAY? Lundi? El lunes? Montag? NO! IT CAN'T BE MONDAY! We go to Hogwarts on Wednesday! I haven't even been to Diagon Alley yet!

"You haven't gotten you supplies yet, have you?" Hermione looked at me skeptically. "figures."

HAI Hermione-san!

"Ooh, and I feel like crap,"

Hermione clucked her tongue.

"I'm glad I'm not you."

"And do, pray tell, when did you get your supplies?"

"Before I came here, of course. I didn't want to inconvenience your mother." Hermione looked at me as if I were mad.

OHMIGOD!

"You're PERFECT! Are you a robot? I bet you're a robot!" I shouted wildly, accusingly pointing my finger at Hermione.

"I am none of the sort," Hermione sniffed.

"Harrumph," I grunted.

"Well, since you think I'm too perfect, I'll leave in a perfect ending," And with that, Hermione flounced out of the room.

I am once again…

Alone.

Completely and utterly alone.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

GO SHORT CHAPTERS! WHOOO.

Hey Rach, I bet you loved that Sucks to be Me part, eh? Well, good, because the sixteen part even rhymed! I am so brilliant, it amazes me.

… and there I go, being conceited again! I have to say, right now, my obsession is: Fruits Basket! If anyone wants to review to talk about it, I guarantee a huge review reply, because it rocks my face off. So, yes, Fruits Basket Love. Go Furuba! (and Momiji. Ohmigod he grows up and it's so saaaaad! ;;) But meh, Que sera sera!

Isn't that a fun word? Ohmigod? I hate it, it sounds preppy, but it's fun to type. Fweeee.

Review Replies:

griffindor-girl12: You'll see, my dear! Although it did seem quite obvious last chapter. ; I hope you liked this one!

Mei fa-chan: Thanks, Mei-san! I'm glad you liked it. Cheee.

yeah whatever: Isn't that the BEST, though. I love fluff, I just hate writing it. xDD I'm sorry to say, no fluff whatsoever in this chapter, though. And no Harry! Just a mention! Wow, that sucks.

pink gecko: Awwwr, thanks! I'm glad you like it!

BexyLou: Thanks:3

hi: I hope _I_ didn't make you sick! LOL! Well, I'm glad you're happy, anyways!

grace: Oooh, I've ALWAYS wanted a pet named Ginny! If I get a bunny (unlikely to happen), I am so naming it Ginny! That's great! I used to have a dog… but he died. Okay! I'll shut up and stop being so depressing, it's not fun! Thanks for the review, grace!

Thanks everyone! I really hope you liked this chapter. And I hope it doesn't seem rushed, and –

-gets shoe thrown at her-

Okay, I'll shut up.

Love, Emily.


	4. Of Scotland and Prefects

A/N: Oh, WOW I suck at updating. Well at least I am right now! Right? Or not. Anyways, I hope you all had a good Christmas! –cough- Oh yes, I read like, 5 paragraphs of the fanfiction 'Shoebox', and it inspired me to update. Yes, I get inspirations off of other fanfictions. When they're hilariously funny, they make me get the urge to update really badly.

So enjoy this chapter, I hope you do. Ginny's going back to Hogwarts!

-.-.-.-.

I am so darn _lucky_ to have remembered to pack yesterday, because I felt like CRAP, and slept in today! You would think that my family would be so kind to wake me up.

BWAHAHAHAHA.

Sorry, I forgot who my family was for a second there.

Well my hair is a disheveled mess, (almost as bad as Harry's. ALMOST, I say!) and I threw up again. But otherwise, I'm fine!

I'm really, really great when it comes to getting ready quickly, thank god for that. But the boys! Ye Merlin! They are slower than Hermione and I put together, and I'm sure they're not just getting ready in that room.

AAH. BAD THOUGHTS BAD THOUGHTS.

Okay they're gone.

Anyways, oh yes, I'm looking out the Hogwarts Express window right now. Tree, tree, tree. Scotland's so pretty this time of year, yes?

Well this is boring.

Guess who got Head Boy?

Guess who got bloody Head Boy, so he, Ron, and Hermione are gone right now?

Goyle.

Of course not.

Harry, if you couldn't guess.

I'm stuck in this tiny compartment with Neville and Luna Lovegood, now, and let me say, this is not my idea of crumpets and tea.

"Ginny?'

I was snapped out of my reverie, and had to focus on Luna.

"… yes?"

"Did you know that in this compartment, right now, are Single-Eyed Lorplacks?"

I tried as hard as I could not to have eye-contact with Neville.

"Er," here I snorted, but covered it as a cough, "What exactly _is _a Lorplack?"

She then gave me a detailed and dreadfully boring account of what exactly a Lorplack was, which I will not torture anyone else by explaining it.

Once Harry comes back, I'm going to Avada Kedavra him for leaving me. Wait, first I'll torture him about how I once caught him and Ron frolicking in the fields behind our house, tell everyone about it, and _then _I'll Avada Kedavra him.

That's not horrific enough.

I'll ponder it some more.

Well, before I could ponder it, the Golden Trio all slammed the door open, (whacking Neville in the nose in the process), and stared at me, as if I was an untamed Hippogriff.

"Ginny! ('Er, sorry Neville!') Ginny, where the bloody hell have you been?" Ron asked me.

"In Latvia. Where do you think I've been, Ronald?"

"Er," Harry started, "What I think Ron's trying to say, is that, why aren't you in the Prefects compartment?"

I stared at him.

"Because, Harry," taking a tone of an impatient parent telling their kid how it is not good to get their hair stuck in the garbage disposal, "I am not a Prefect, in case you haven't noticed."

Humph.

I do not appreciate them rubbing it in.

"Yes you are."

"Harry, I would think I would know if I got a badge in my envelope, when I received my letter."

For emphasis, I went over to my trunk, bent over, and proceeding to dig through it.

Aha!

…

Wait, my envelope feels heavy.

I reached into the blasted thing, and pulled out a badge.

A _Prefect _badge.

Dang, I hate being wrong.

"Heh, well, look at that, a badge!" Harry snatched it away from it and held it up to my face, pointing at the P.

"See that P, Ginny? Against most contrary belief, it does, indeed, stand for Prefect. Put it on, and come go to compartment in five minutes."

With that, the trio left into the grand sunset.

Well, what has _his _wand tied in a knot? Maybe Fred and George were right about HB standing for Big-Head Boy.

Because Harry's sure fitting the part! The bugger. Thinking he can talk to me that way.

I pinned the dang thing on at a crooked angle, and it wouldn't budge, so I made my way down the hall.

Then, the door to the compartment would budge, so I had to 'Alahomora' it, and it swung open revealing the Prefects.

"Um, hi."

Oh great, I'm the Gryffindor prefect, and all I can say is 'Um, hi' for my great entrance?

Some people acknowledged me, but most just chewed on the Bertie Botts Beans that they had nicked from the cart.

"Ahem." Hermione cleared her throat. "Excuse—oh, heavens, Colin, please, stop turning the beans into crickets. Eloise? Just, go get help for that. Oh, dear, what's that!" Hermione's voice started getting frantic.

"Oh, bugger. This is going to be very informative, I can see," I grumbled. Hermione shot me a look.

"Think you can do better?"

"No, thank you. I can see you have everything under control."

My words were partly drowned out by the awe of seeing red lights.

Well, sparks.

Everyone stopped and stared at Harry.

"Can we please get to work?" He asked. Well, more like pleaded. I would too, if I had to work with this lot.

"I need to go to the lavatory!"

"Hold it," Harry's voice was stern.

"Yes sir."

Harry then proceeded to explain that this year will be hectic, and that we can no longer shoot random hexes out at the 1st years, (to everyone's dismay) for it might cause panic. He gave out the schedules, and basically acted like a hero.

Er, yeah, scratch that last part.

It was probably one of the shortest meetings in history, but I think that everyone was happy go to.

Happy?

AHAHA. Yeah right! More like jubilant, ecstatic! We practically caused a bloody stampede getting out of there.

Did I say I wanted to be a prefect up there?

Well, new fa-lash.

I lied.

I would rather be dragged by my toes to Africa. But, since that most likely isn't going to happen, I have to live with being a right snob.

You win some, you lose some.

I win by getting to be with Harry. (Smile!) I lose by having to patrol the halls at night. My flu isn't getting better any time soon.

"Ginny, are you okay? You look a bit peaky." Harry said cautiously.

Right, good boy, Harry. Basically tell a girl she looks like crap.

"No, I feel fine!" I smiled, and then felt like vomiting.

"Well, maybe you should go see Madame Pomfrey when we get to the school."

I'd rather kiss Snape.

Ew, actually, never mind.

But Madame Pomfrey is not exactly my favorite person. She got a bit snappy at me last year, when I had told her that just because she's going through a mid-life crisis, it doesn't mean she has to take it out on the students.

_That_ comment earned me a jab with the wand.

"Fine," I sighed. "Though you're coming with me, Potter."

By Harry's face, it looked like he loved Madame Pomfrey just as much as me.

"I'll need an escort. If I keel over there in the hallway, on the stairs, halfways through, I might roll right down them, to my death!"

"Fine, but only because I don't want to be responsible for you keeling over," Harry muttered.

Hah, I knew I would get him back for snapping at me.

Women get all the power.

-.-.-.-.

A/N: Wow, that… er…

Was a filler! Haha, sorry! Emily's Totally Random Obsession of the Moment: Titanic. SQUEEEE. GREATEST MOVIE EVER. But, er, nobody really cares about that, do they? Tee hee. Oh well.

Thanks to all my reviewers, you guys keep me going:

Smittened By Marauders: Besides the fact that you have the most awesomest name ever, Thanks!

griffindor-girl12: Haha, yes, but we all knew that, right:) Haha, yeah, I wanted her to be the Sarcastic!Ginny, so she is. (Power to the Authors!)

Jess: Fruits Basket rocks, the end. Oh, and I never get –too- hyper. I just doesn't… work. Haha. Maybe I have a twisted sense of humor. Actually, I probably do.

Mei fa-chan: Awwr. –give cookie- Thanks!

Ace Ryn Knight: Thank you! I always thought Ginny was portrayed as a witty person, kind of like Fred and George and Molly Weasly rolled together. Does that make sense? Haha, I'm glad someone sees her like that in this story!

HarryAndGinnyAAF: I'm kind of pretty, and pretty damn smart! Lovelovelove. Haha, I'm so happy someone picked up that in here! Yes, Avenue Q is awesome. Yay for peaches!

BexyLou: Thanks!

Eileen Prince: Thank you! I'm glad you find it funny.

I Cry 4 the Bumblebee: It didn't stop! I was just on a mini block. It's back now. :D

Love,

Emily.


	5. Of Feasts and Surprises

THE FEAST.

Oh, dear Merlin! How I have missed this scrumptious meal that you have bestowed on all students at the beginning of the year! Oh… food, glorious food!

O! the chicken. O! the pudding. O! the mints shaped like broomsticks. (O! the O's.) This is truly the meaning of life. Those philosophers who have been questioning this for years, Ginny Weasly has the answer!

Or it would be, as you see, some things are not always 'perfect.' Nay, this feast will not be the same as the last, nor of any others. For you see, it is the first feast without Albus Dumbledore.

Of course, Prof. Minerva ('McGoogles' 'Mim-Mims' and other creative titles being her nicknames bestowed upon by her loving students) has taken over as headmistress for Albus Dumbledore.

Of course the mood is still jubilant, but I reckon everyone's souls and happy demeanor have been dampened quite a bit.

A moment of silence, please.

--

FOOD.

Nnaugh.

My stomach hurts. Where is the food?

Oh, Minnie's doing a speech, how nice!

… how sad.

I will not cry.

I will not!

Stop it, you're making me cry, you mean, horrible professor! This is so mortifying! Nobody has ever cried at a feast! (Except me that is, I suppose.)

PEOPLE ARE STARING AT ME.

"Quit staring at me!"

I blubbered to those around me.

(Though I have to admit, it came out as 'Quittfaa staffing out meeeeEeeeE!)

Hermione widened her eyes and looked to her right quite sharply, as if butter was the most fascinating she has ever laid eyes on.

Butter is extremely serious, you know. There's nothing funny about butter.

I waved my _butter _knife around for emphasis. Harry and Ron conveniently ducked, though I really can't see how I would've done them in with a butter knife.

--

I'm hungry.

Ooh, pudding!

--

What the _hell _is wrong with me? Since when do I go in crying fits, and then obsess about pudding? I'd be depressed if I weren't so hungry!

--

Eurggh.

I am not hungry anymore.

I've never eaten so much chicken in my life. I'm sorry my feathered friends, but I could not help tearing my teeth into the flesh upon your bones! Please forgive me.

"Ginny, you all right?"

Not this boy again.

"I'm fine, Harry," I said, rolling my eyes.

He shot me a look as if to say 'well-I'm-only-asking-you-twit.'

He didn't seem so worried in that look! I think he's being entirely too melodramatic and it's quite getting on my nerves!

"I'm only worried. Promise you'll go to the Hospital Wing tomorrow?"

I hate Madam Pomfrey.

_Hate her!_

But I said yes. Not because I like Harry.

Of course not!

I don't like him that much, you know.

Oh stop it, I don't.

--

On the way to the Hospital Wing the next morning, I had to remind him countless times that no, I am NOT a child, and I would rather like it if he wouldn't treat me as one.

Thank-you-very-much.

"If I didn't look out for you, who would?"

I feel insulted.

_I _would look out for me.

--

I am responsible you know. Just because I accidentally-almost fell down the stairs earlier today doesn't mean I'm not responsible. I do my chores… I do my homework.

Some of the time.

Ah, look! We're here.

"Mr. Potter? Classes have yet to start, and you're here already?" Madam Pomfrey clucked. She sometimes reminds me of a hen, with all the clucking she does. Fly away, Madam Pomfrey! You can do it!

Oh yes, that's right.

_Chickens don't fly._

BWAHA.

"I feel sick," I said.

And then I proceeded to vomit on Harry's shoes.

--

HIS SHOES.

WHY HIS SHOES?

Why not… in a bucket, like normal people who have gotten the flu?

Eurgh.

--

"It's really fine, Ginny. I have more shoes."

_His shoes!_

"But those were your favorite pair!" I blubbered. They were quite nice, also! All shiny and black.

"I can wash them, you realize."

"Not after I've -- I've befouled them!" I truly have. I'm such a wanker.

"It's fine, I've already magic'd them clean."

What he must think of me.

I'm such a pig.

"Children." We both turned our heads. Why did we turn our heads? We are not children! I start to make an indignant noise, which I have to admit sounded like a squawk, but Madam Pomfrey cut me off.

"Miss Weasly, I'd like to perform some tests on you, if you'd like."

I know what this is!

Oh, ho ho!

She'll perform tests on me all right… and then KILL ME. Like in those muggle books my father reads! The heroine always dies. And then comes back from the dead. WHY she didn't just choose to be a ghost is BEYOND me.

"Fine," I mutter.

Oh woe is me. I hate tests. I hate shots!

Oww! Again with the unnecessary jabbing!

(Again with a squawk and a cluck.)

CHICKEN. (Bawk!)

"I'll be back soon, Miss Weasly."

"She'll be back soon. You old trollop," I grumble.

Harry grins at me.

"Trollop?"

I wince. It wasn't one of my better insults, especially concerning Madam Pomf--

_Her._

"Shut up, Harry."

Bicker, bicker.

I study my nails indifferently.

"What does it matter to you what insults I use? Do you often tease others about their choice of insult? You need to find a hobby, mate."

Harry shoots a dark-eyed look at me and snorts.

Dum-dee-dum.

She is taking forever! Forever's quite a long time once you think about it. Or is it?

--

Finally.

Seriously, how many thumb wars must a person go through while waiting for a nurse?

I won them all, naturally.

**Part 5.**

Of Feasts and Tests

Harry may be a good seeker, but he lacks in THUMB SKILLS.

Yes, I did indeed strike a triumphant pose.

"Miss Weasly?"

"Er, yes."

"This is quite difficult to say--"

Oh Merlin.

I know what she's going to say.

I'M DYING.

AAH THIS IS THE LAST DAY. THIS IS IT. I _ONLY HAVE 24 HOURS TO LIVE._

Help me, help me! Aaah!

Nothing could be worse than dying.

"So I'll say it."

I can feel the anticipation in the room. Harry's breaths have gotten shorter, and I'm not even breathing at all.

(Insert a gasp for air here.)

"You're pregnant."

--

Well, I suppose something could be worth than dying.

---

Notes from the laptop of Emily:

That's right! I revised this chapter, almost completely. After taking awhile to grow up some (or not), taking some more English class, and reading some more books, I've written another chapter. (Yesss.)

Actually, it's a revision. (Sorry! I cringed at the last one, and it's not all showing up!) I hope to update more frequently, but please don't take my word on it. I often discouraged at my lack of writing skills (zz, homie g (oh please)), but I will do my best!

Thanks to all the reviews I have gotten, including:

HermioneRon 4ever, griffindor-girl12, Miz-Behaved-1, toffee200304, -Lilly-Jackson-

And:

dore-malfoy: I _really _hope that meant something good! Hahah! If it did, gracias!

Amy: I'm so sorry my chapters are short! (the last one was actually longer, but had gotten cut off!) Funny story, when I read your review, I thought is said "I'll die of sunshine." I'm such a horrible reader, apparently! (Or maybe I've been staring at the screen too long.) But y'know, we wouldn't want you to be getting cancer now!

--

Thank you for reading!


	6. Of Bigger Surprises and Grease

A/N: It is here.

--

"_You're pregnant."  
_

Merlin, the words just won't leave my head. I groan as my legs hit my bed and I fall backwards onto it. It makes a nice 'pouf!' noise and I stare at the ceiling. It isn't helping, the words still repeat in my head. It's unnatural, it... it doesn't happen to me. These things happen in the trashy books that my dorm mates read, not in real life. Not in _my life_.

And the worst part is... _I don't even know how it happened.  
_

I think back to the hospital wing.

--

I stare at Madam Pomfrey.

"Er. Hahah, no, really, what's wrong with me?"

She gives me a look. I cast a desperate glance at Harry, hoping he'll start laughing and tell me how good they got me. He just blanches and tries to avoid my eyes.

Thanks, Potter, I appreciate it.

"But, _how_?" I say weakly.

Madam Pomfrey glares slightly at me. "You really don't expect me to tell you how a child is conceived."

Now it's my turn to blanch.

"Ugh, no." Seeing the look on her face I hurry, "I mean... I know how it's, erm. I mean, I _read_. Oh Merlin! Not like that!" I'm sure my face is darker than the color of my hair. Harry still isn't looking at me, but his face is surprisingly blank. It's kind of creepy.

"Miss Weasley, I can assure you something like this hasn't happened since I've been at Hogwarts." I can't help but think that's a really long time.

She continues, "I'm really at a loss of what to do in this situation. Do you... that is to say. Do you know who the father is?"

"No." I blurt out. Harry turns and stares at me incredulously, and Madam Pomfrey squawks.

Oh, that came out a tad wrong, I suppose.

"I mean, I've never. Er. That is, I haven't. I've never had sex!" I practically scream out.

Well, if my life wasn't already mortifying already, now everyone at Hogwarts probably just heard what my sex life is. Or, lack of. I grimace.

Madam Pomfrey shoots me a look that tells me she doubts that.

"Miss Weasly. I can assure you, this doesn't just happen."

Well, I know that. No need to spell it out. Harry's now settled for what I think is a glare. Actually, it's quite frightening. _Why _he's glaring at me, I wouldn't know. Unless.

No.

He's not jealous. That doesn't make sense. Push it OUT of your mind, Ginerva Weasley. Do not think of false hope.

And it's really not like he has anything to be jealous of.

"I've never had sex," I say firmly. "If I had, I'm pretty sure I would've remembered. It's not exactly something that slips your mind."

She gave me another look as if to say she severely doubts it.

"Look, I know you don't believe me, but, it's true. Are you sure _you're _not wrong?"

"Magic doesn't tend to be wrong, Miss Weasley." Another point to Madam Pomfrey for making me feel stupid.

She sighs. "I think the only thing to do at the moment is for you to talk to Professor McGonagall.

I wince. This is one time out of many that I wish Professor Dumbledore was still here. He may be stern, but he seemed more free spirited. I know I won't be expecting any lemon drops on this visit.

"Will you come with me?" For some reason I feel that if I had an adult with me, McGonagall won't kill me.

She gives me another stern look. I have a gut feeling that I'm going to get a lot of those very soon.

"I think this is one visit you can take on your own."

I nod and groan as I stand up and head for the door. I'm going to die. I should at least write a will before I go. Hermione can have my textbooks. Maybe she can start a collection. Fred and George can have my stash of dungbombs under my bed. Ron, he can be told to bugger off.

I'm out of the door, still thinking of a will when Harry, not-so-gently, might I add, runs into my shoulder as he charges by.

"Harry?" I ask tentatively. His shoulders go rigid, and I hear him take a breath before he turns around.

"What?" he snaps, his green eyes flashing. I feel as I've been hit in the stomach.

"Um. I just wanted to say that --"

"You know what Ginny?" he cuts me off, "I _really_ don't want to hear it. Save it for, oh, I don't know? The boys you shagged?"

Ouch. Oh, he's angry. Why the bloody hell is HE angry? He's not the one who's just been told he's having a baby, and one that apparently appeared from thin air!

"Harry Potter out of the low things you could say right now..." I stop, and breathe. "Please, _please_ don't tell Ron. Or any of my brothers, for that matter. Or, anyone. Please."

He barks a short, bitter, laugh and walks down the staircase, leaving me alone.

--

"Um, Professor?" I knock on the door to McGonagall's office.

"Come in," comes a voice from within.

I open the door slowly and walk in, shutting it behind me. She's sitting at her desk, grading papers. I can't bring myself to move my feet. I feel as if a hole will swallow me if I do. I _wish_ a hole would swallow me, actually.

"Yes?" McGonagall raises an eyebrow. "Sit-down, if you will."

I do, with reluctance.

We stare at each other for a good few seconds.

"Biscuit?" She offers. I feel as if I may puke.

"Erugh, no, thank you."

More silence.

"Did you come here just to stare, Miss Weasley?" I blush.

"Well, no, I just came from the Hospital Wing."

"Nothing serious, I hope?" she goes back to grading papers. That's one thing I admire about her. She took up the job as Headmistress and still teaches Transfiguration. I feel my respect for her deepen, and then I remember what I came to tell her.

"Well, I guess it depends."

"Depends," she repeats.

"Ah, yes. You see... I'm kind of. Pregnant." I look at my hands. There's more silence.

"'Kind of pregnant?'" she repeats, faintly. I nod, ginger hair falling over my face.

I glance through the strands at her face. She looks lost and murderous all at once.

"I didn't mean to?" I say meekly.

Now she just looks murderous.

"Didn't mean to," she almost sneers, reminding me of Professor Snape, the bastard. If there's one thing I'm glad of, it's that I'll never have to see his slimy face again.

"Well, yeah," I say, dumbly.

"Miss Weasley," McGonagall says, voice dangerously low, "you realize what name this puts on you, and your House."

I gulp.

"Well, yeah. But it was an accident --"

"An ACCIDENT?" she practically screeches. I flinch and then straighten.

"Of course it was an accident! I mean, I don't even bloody remember HAVING sex, and nobody seems to believe me, and I'm..." _Scared_.

Oh, Merlin. It hits me. I'm pregnant. I have something growing inside of me. I'm hugely responsible for a life. I... people will think me some sort of whore. My House will shun me. _My parents will kill me._

"You mean, you never..." she breaks off, confused, eyebrows furrowed.

"No. Never," I say firmly. "Not that I remember, anyways."

"Miss Weasley, if you're lying, there will be dire consequences."

"I'm not lying. I'm a Gryffindor." As if that makes me any more believable.

"You are. As a Gryffindor, I would hope you would be brave enough to tell the truth," she eyes me.

"I am, I swear it."

She sighs and rests her palms on her desk, standing up.

"Well, I believe this is enough chat for now," I think I stare. _Chat_? "I'll have to speak to Madam Pomfrey. Do I need to write a note for your next class?"

"I have free hour, Professor, but I think I missed Charms while at the Wing."

She nods. "I'll send a note to Professor Flitwick, then. You're excused."

I'm excused. Well. I open my mouth, thought better of it, closed it, and nodded. Leaving, I can't help but feel like a hippogriff sat on my stomach.

--

So that's it. Pregnant. I turn and groan into my pillow. Classes went by fast, but I missed lunch, saying that I didn't feel well. Which, wasn't a lie, I don't. I was lucky Ron bought it, but Hermione gave me a skeptical look. Harry, I noticed, didn't look at me at all.

I want to stay up here forever. It was almost dinner, however, and I didn't feel like missing that after lunch.

Going to down into the Common Room, I see Harry, Hermione, and Ron sitting in a group near the fireplace, talking in hushed voices. I noticed that as I neared them, they got quiet. Well, that's nice. Harry glowered at me on my way out, and I glared at him in return.

"What's wrong with her?" I heard Ron asking as I stepped through the portrait.

"Haven't a clue," Harry answered.

I scarcely made it out when McGonagall appeared in front of me.

"Miss Weasley? Madam Pomfrey and I would like to speak to you."

--

I stared.

"So you have a spell that could tell who the father is?" I asked slowly. Madam Pomfrey nodded.

"I talked to Madam Pomfrey and we decided it's for the best," McGonagall said.

I nod. The father. I hadn't even thought of that. And seriously, a spell for detecting _who the father is_? If that's so, why are there so many trashy witch novels?

Pomfrey pulls out her wand and a horrible thought comes.

I swear to Merlin I don't care who the father is... just don't let it be Malfoy.

Eugh.

Pomfrey gasps.

Oh Merlin, it's Malfoy. Ew. I don't want a ferret in me! I'm on the verge of hyperventilating when McGonagall asks,

"What is it, Poppy?"

"Professor... would you go fetch Mister Potter? I think we should speak to him," she says, dazed.

"Harry... Potter?" McGonagall asks, faintly.

"Yes, please."

Oh, great. Go fetch Potter so he can rub in my face that I'm having Malfoy's child. No, I scratch that. He'd kill me before he could rub it in my face.

I bury my head in my hands. Minutes later, I hear footsteps approaching.

"What is it Madam Pom --" I raise my head up and look at him. "Oh," he glares.

I narrow my eyes. If it's a ferret, I'm going to make it eat him.

"Mister Potter, do you know why we called you here?"

He rips his gaze from me and shakes his head. He seems to tense up.

"I expect it has something to do with _her_, I imagine," he says, with a surprising amount of venom. I try to raise an eyebrow and fail. Damn.

"'_Her_'? Last time I checked, I had a name," I speak slowly.

"I don't really feel like acknowledging someone I trusted, who I guess goes and sleeps around behind my back?"

"Sleeps around? Behind your _back_? Harry Potter, you low, disgusting --"

"Now, now." Pomfrey clears her throat, and tugs on her robes nervously. "We don't want two happy parents fighting, do we?"

We can fight as we bloody please, thank you...

Wait.

"What?" we both croak out.

"Mister Potter, I congratulate you on becoming a future parent," McGonagall looks as if she was thinking the opposite of congratulations.

"... Parent?" He croaks and sits on the cot next to mine.

"Yes." McGonagall looks scary, and somehow I don't think she really believes me anymore.

"But I haven't – I mean, we haven't --" He blushes.

The Boy Who Lived is blushing. How _sweet. _The sarcasm side in me is dripping.

"You had a relationship, did you not?"

Bloody hell. She's actually asking if Potter and I shagged?

It's my turn to blush.

Harry covers his face with his hands.

"Yes, but we never... uggh," his voice is muffled.

'Uggh'? Well that's flattering. Glad to know that even though we had a relationship he apparently thinks it's disgusting to think of me that way. If he was going out with me for charity, I'll break his leg.

"Not 'uggh', obviously," he stops, getting even more red. 'Obviously?' This is sort of amusing, actually.

"I just meant, we never. We never went that far," he says, confused.

"There's no way you could have impregnated Miss Weasley?" McGonagall clarifies, confused.

"Er, no. There's not," he flushes.

At an awkward moment like this, I expect Dumbledore to pop in and offer us a lemon drop.

"I was about to bring that up, Minerva," Pomfrey cuts in. "There seems to be magic tampering."

"Tampering?" McGonagall raises a brow.

"That is to say, I don't think it was conceived naturally." As if that hasn't been obvious this whole time.

"Other than that," she continues, "I'd like to tell Miss Weasley that she has a healthy, two-month old fetus."

Well, isn't that great.

I don't want a bloody baby!

"And Mister Potter," she adds after a thoughtful pause.

Here Harry _finally _looked at me with something in his eyes other than a glare. It looked like... he was scared.

I'm scared to. I can't raise a kid. I can't even HAVE a kid. I'm... I'm too young. I'm too irresponsible. He's too young. We're both bloody in for it when people find out.

"Why... why would someone do this?" I ask.

McGonagall finally looked at me with pity. "I'm not sure, Miss Weasly," she admitted, "but we'll find out."

"Bloody hell." Harry looked at me. "Ron's going to kill me."

Kill... him? _Bloody hell_, I repeat in my mind. Ron's going to kill me. And then feed me to Pig. Actually, all my brothers will kill me. Every last one of them, even Percy, the prat. Except he'll probably kill me for bringing shame to his name, not for losing my 'virtue'.

Nnaugh.

"Do we have to tell anyone, Professor?" I look at McGonagall with wide, pitiful eyes, hoping she'll take... pity on me.

"I think it'd be wise to write to your parents, Miss Weasly," she drew her lips into a fine line, "Other than that, I don't see why anyone else would have to know quite yet."

My parents.

That's just as well as setting a death sentence.

"You may go," she dismisses us.

We both head back to the Common Room in complete silence. As we reach the portrait hole, Harry gives me a sad, reassuring smile.

The smile probably meant he was glad he didn't have to write any letters to my parents.

--

This is harder than it seems.

_Dear Mum and Dad,_

_This may come as a shock, it definitely did to me. I'm pregnant, sorry. It's Harry Potter's child and--_

No, that wouldn't do.

_Mum and Dad,_

_Guess what, Harry Potter knocked me up!_

_Love,  
__Ginny_

No, definitely not.

_Dear Mum and Dad,_

_How are you? My first day at Hogwarts has been... eventful. Classes are going well, but I don't have Potions until tomorrow, so I'm crossing my fingers about that. At least I don't have it with Snape anymore!_

_Speaking of events... I had to go to the Hospital Wing today. Now, don't worry, I'm not dying. Quite the opposite, really. There's no easy way to say this. I'm pregnant. Yes, I know who the father is. No, I won't tell you who he is because you'd tell my brothers and they'd murder him. Speaking of which, can we keep this a secret for now? I'm sure you want me alive in the long run._

_Please don't be disappointed. It's really not my fault. Madam Pomfrey told me that there was magical tampering of some sort, her and McGonagall are going to figure it out, I think. _

_I'm scared._

_Love you,  
__Ginny_

Sighing I tied it up and went to ask Harry to borrow Hedwig.

And did so in front of Ron.

"Who are you writing to?" he asked, curious.

"None of your business," I said calmly.

"It's my business if you're so secretive about it."

"If I was being secretive, _Ronald_, I wouldn't asked for Hedwig in front of you," I snapped. Boys, really.

He huffed and turned to Harry. "You'll really let her borrow Hedwig?" he said as if it was a bad idea.

"It's just Ginny, Ron, I trust her." He turned to me. "Sure, you can borrow her, I'm sure your letter isn't too far off. He smiled at me reassuringly.

Again.

Ugh.

"Nope," I say through gritted teeth, "Though I'm sure the occupants would be glad to hear about _you..._"

I take pleasure in seeing him pale considerably.

Ron gives us puzzled glances but then goes back to his chess game.

Ginny: 1

Harry Potter: 0.

I feel triumphant.

--

The next morning I groaned realizing I felt sick. Again.

Fortunately I managed to not spew all over the floor, and got dressed rather quickly, going down the the Hall. I spot Harry and sit next to him, grabbing a roll.

"What class do you have first?" I ask.

"Potions," he grimaces.

"Well, at least we have a new professor, we don't have to deal with Snape this year!" I practically crow and then feel horrible at seeing him blanch.

"I mean. Sorry," I mumble.

"S'okay," he grunts, and then brightens. "I wonder who the new professor is, anyways."

"Someone new, thank Merlin," Ron appears, sits, and immediately digs into some bacon. Hermione appears also, sitting next to him and giving him a disgusted look.

"Well, I hope they at least have great experience. This is our N.E.W.T year, we need someone who knows what they're talking about, like Snape did," she says.

Ron stares at Hermione.

"You make him sound as if he's not horrible, greasy, oily --"

"I'm not saying he's not, Ron!" Hermione snaps, "I'm only saying he knew what he was talking about. Even if he was horrid."

Harry grunts once more and stands up. "I'm going to start towards the dungeons, it's far off."

"I'll come with you," Hermione stands and grabs her books, "I want to get a head-start."

Ron gives his food a pitiful glance and stands up as if he was really regretting it.

"Wait, I'm coming," he groans.

And I'm left alone as the trio goes off. I have Herbology first, and as we're working in Greenhouse 3, I better get a move on, also.

--

I walk back to the Common Room after Herbology, feeling considerably dirtier. I realize I must look a mess, and have dirt on my face.

"Finally looking as you should, Weasley?" a voice drawls out, "_Dirt poor?_"

I stiffen. I know that drawl. I know that voice.

"Malfoy," I say, my voice dark. What the hell is that bastard doing in this school? Getting a closer look at him, I realize that he looks sickly, almost, with dark circles under his eyes. Curious.

He merely sneers and walks by me, looking at me in a way that makes me really happy I wasn't having his ferret – er, child.

I make inside the Portrait Hole to see Harry pacing about, looking murderous.

"HOW COULD THEY?" He shouts.

Hermione and Ron look angry, also, but scared, as they watched Harry.

"HOW COULD THEY LET THAT _BASTARD, _THAT COMPLETE UTTER _SCUM_ BACK IN THIS SCHOOL?"

"Harry?" I approach him timidly. "Did Potions not go well?"

He turns and looks at me with a snarl. I almost drop my books.

"Not go well? _Not go well_? Do you want to know what DID NOT GO WELL? THEY LET SNAPE, _SNAPE _BACK INTO THIS SCHOOL. THAT TRAITORIOUS, OILY --"

Hermione cuts him off.

"Harry, McGonagall had her reasons, she even said --"

"DO I CARE? HE _KILLED_ DUMBLEDORE, IF YOU DON'T REMEMBER, HERMIONE!"

"But Professor McGonagall said --"

"_I DON'T CARE_." He fled up the stairs into the boy's dormitory, and slammed the door.

"Um. So. Snape, back?" I say weakly.

Ron nodded, looking glum. "McGonagall trusts him. He killed Dumbledore, and she _trusts_ him. Said it was part of some plot between him and Dumbledore. Probably made the whole damn thing up, the git."

"Ron, they had him take truth serum," Hermione said, biting her lip.

"Yeah, well potions fail, sometimes, don't they?"

"I don't think this did," she muttered.

"So you're saying it's okay he's back?" he growled.

"Of course not. I just... think that we should accept her word. Just, let's all be careful. We'll talk to Harry later, okay?" she said, soothingly.

Ron visibly relaxed, and I almost laughed out loud at how they were acting so much like a couple.

But, Snape.

He killed Dumbledore. How... why would McGonagall do this?

Well, I'll just have to be careful. I subconsciously put an arm around my abdomen.

Right.

--

A/N:

That was long, urgh. Does it make up for 4 months of not updating?

No?

Well it wasn't all my fault, I suppose. I didn't have Microsoft Works anymore,but I finally got a program that let me write. I'll update soon, again, I hope. Also, I was wondering if someone would like to be a beta. After finally realizing I haven't been putting E's in there rightful places (ugh), I need one.

I appreciate all the reviews, and I hope that the cause of Ginny's pregnancy is cleared up now. If not, I'll... I don't know. Try to clear it up some more, ahaha.

Oh, and now that Deathly Hallows came out. Ignore it, please? This will definitely be different. Nobody will ever be named Albus Severus, for starters.

Happy reading!


	7. Of Howlers and Parenting

What's the first thing I think when I happen to wake up on this lovely morning?

My mum is going to kill me. Actually, the first thought is "Toilet. Must run to. Now" but I suppose that's not a surprise. I've sent her a letter yesterday and I'm sure she's read it by now. Hedwig _is_ a rather fast owl.

Merlin.

I am so dead.

Getting ready this morning did take longer than usual. I suppose it's because before I was SICKING UP ALL MY ORGANS. It was quite a lovely experience and I hope that I get to do it every single morning.

Anyways – that's not important. I'm currently walking down the hallways to the Great Hall, and the students are disgustingly cheery this morning. I feel like kicking a first year. I look a fright, too. My hair is probably sticking out from all angles, and I'm certain I have dark rings under my eyes. Yes, fear me. Ginny Weasley: Vampire.

Bloody hell, why can't the day just be a little cloudy?

Look. A Harry Potter.

"Harry!" I call out. He turns around and smiles at me.

"Hallo, Ginny," he says, "Feel like walking to the Hall with me?"

I feel like kicking a first year in the face.

"Sure," I smile.

There's an awkward silence. What _do_ you say to the father of your unborn child? I'm trying to not think of the fact that there's something living in me. It gives me chills every time I do.

"How are you feeling?" he asks, actually looking concerned.

Like a troll stepped on my head.

"Fine."

He bites his lip. "Oh, because you look rather... under the weather."

Well, great. Harry Potter thinks I look horrid.

"I feel fine, Harry." I think my tone was a bit harsh, because he was silent the rest of the way to the Hall.

We sat at the Gryffindor table, Harry taking a seat next to Ron. I sat down next to him, trying not to breathe through my nose as I took a roll.

"Ginny, you look sick," comes the first words I hear from my brother this morning.

Charming.

"I'm not, Ron," I sigh. "I just didn't sleep well."

He shrugs and eats a spoonful of eggs.

This year isn't going as well as I'd hoped. Sure, Harry's paying attention to me, but I didn't think I'd have to have his bloody child to get him to.

This bargain's not quite fair.

"Oh look, mail," Harry says.

I glare at him with my impressive Glare of One Hundred Deaths. He doesn't seem to notice.

That glare is soon turned in to a Glare of Horror and Impending Doom as I see a fairly familiar snowy owl with a red letter clutched in her talons.

"Nnaugh," I groan.

Harry seems to have gone very white.

I watch as it seems to go as slow as it possibly is able before it finally halts at a stop in front of me. It drops the letter and gives me a look that seems to be mocking me.

"Ginny? Is that a howler?" Ron looks confused.

"Gurk," is all I manage to get out.

"Get out of here before it blows," Harry hisses in my ear.

"Ugk."

"_Ginny!_"

I nod and get up from the bench, stumbling slightly and clutching my bag and the howler. I manage to walk as quickly as I can without actually running until I get into the hall.

Ahh an empty classroom.

"Merlin."

I watch as smoke curls up from under the flaps of the howler and gingerly open it.

"GINERVA WEASLEY!" My mother's voice comes booming out of the letter.

Silence charm – activate!

(insert booming noise here.)

(Except not, because it's... a silencing charm, I suppose.)

"I GET A LETTER FROM YOU, HOPING TO HEAR FROM MY LITTLE GIRL ABOUT HER FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL --" (Here I pause to think '_Really, now?_') "-- AND WHAT DO I GET? THIS ATROCIOUS LETTER FROM YOU – I HAVE NEVER BEEN MORE ASHAMED IN MY _LIFE_. I HAVE _EVERY MIND_ TO WRITE YOUR BROTHERS THIS INSTANT --

_WHAT_, ARTHUR?

WHAT DO YOU MEAN, TAMPERING? WHAT? Oh. _Oh my poor Ginny! _ Oh Ginny, dear, we understand. Of course we won't tell your brothers, not until you're ready. Oh dear, you must be so scared. Your father and I are here for you, so don't be afraid to write."

The howler bursts into flames and the ashes fall in front of my incredulous face.

_Don't be afraid to write_? What is that bloody woman getting on about? That howler's enough for me to never want to converse with her ever again.

There's a knock at the door and I turn around. Harry walks in with a worried look, sees my face, and asks "So? How'd it go?"

"How do you think it went?" I muttered darkly, then brightened. "Actually – Mum feels sorry for me! Hah! She's not even going to tell my brothers. Maybe I should tell her it's you," I laughed, "she'd drop dead out of happiness."

Sigh. This is too good.

Of course.

Oh. Damn.

I suppose this means _I_ have to tell my brothers.

Next year sounds good. Right-o. I should be ready then.

Harry bites his lip. It's actually quite attractive. Before we turn to leave the classroom, he pulls me into an awkward hug. It's full of elbows and robe material.

"You're horrible at this," I mutter into his shoulder. He laughs nervously.

"Yes, I am. I haven't had much practice in... hugging. What's your next class?"

I wrinkle my nose. Way to ruin the mood, Potter.

"Potions."

Harry stiffens and then pulls away. I turn to leave but he grabs my arm.

"Hm?" I raise a brow.

"Just – be careful."

"Oh, that's rich, you know, coming from Harry Potter," I grinned.

He gave a toothy grin in return.

His teeth... are actually straight.

Not fair. He has good genetics. While I get stuck with red hair a bit too many freckles.

"I don't have to be careful. I have my personality and charming good looks."

Oh, does he ever have good --

Gah.

No blushing.

Do not blush.

GAH.

He gave another grin, (somewhere in the distance top-heavy lasses swooned) and walked out of the door.

"See you at lunch, then?" Harry called over his shoulder.

"Uhm. Yeah, I suppose. I mean – if you want," I tried to appear nonchalant and suave.

I don't think it worked. I sounded more like a bumbling hippo.

Potions!

Tally-ho!

--

He's late.

Since when is Snape late?

Never, that's when. He's never been late for a class. Which of course, makes us hate him even more, but STILL.

Snape is never late. What is with this nonsense?

Mutters are turning up to full-out conversations and shout-outs from across the room.

"Ginny?" I turn to see Luna smiling serenely at me. I'd forgotten I had this class with her! This day is getting more terrific. You can always count on Luna to cheer you up with her insane babbling... or to put garlic in your sandwich when you aren't looking to keep Bablibs away.

Today, I'm happy to see her.

There's a bang and heads turn to see Snape billow into the room.

He... looks quite nasty.

Snape IS nasty.

Really, I'm surprised a disgruntled student hasn't even TRIED to leave shampoo on his desk. I think he's kind of a flowery-scent type, myself.

Note to self: Invest in shampoo. For Snape.

"Today," he starts off with his lip curled, GIGANTIC nose pointing up, "you will be working on sleeping droughts. In pairs, I would think. Sleeping droughts are immensely difficult. See to it that you bumbling fools don't ruin it _too _horribly."

Ah.

How lovely, having him back.

"Ginny? Would you be my partner?" I turn to Luna.

"Well, seeing as I'm... sitting next to you. I don't see why it should be a problem."

Luna's a Ravenclaw, after all. There's not much they can mess up. I'll just... keep an eye on her.

--

Sleeping droughts are horrid.

And they take forever!

I try blowing a lock of hair that's stuck to my forehead from sweat. Ew. It's too hot in here.

"I think we're done," came the soft tones of Luna.

Hallelujah!

I could kiss her.

"Lovegood and..."

Oh great. Here's the human bat.

Snape sneers a bit, his lip curling up.

"Weasley. Fitting."

Hey! That was an insult. I'm not quite sure how, as Luna's pretty brilliant when she's not acting so loony... and...

OH.

Well, that's rude.

I glare.

And deflate into a withered ball that flies away under his sneer.

"This potion seems... merely acceptable. One of you shall have to try it out, I think. Miss..."

Another sneer.

Begone with you, bat boy.

"Weasley should do."

"Er – sir, I don't think that's wise." I'm sure I'm turning red.

Snape cocked an eyebrow.

"Are you questioning my teaching, Miss Weasley?" The classroom grows quite.

Augh. No, just your disgusting attitude. And... loyalty to the Order, while we're at it. The git. The horrid... HOW could McGonagall trust him, anyways? He bloody KILLED Dumbledore!

"No, sir. I mean... I just... I'm not s-sure if you were told or not..."

I just stammered. Where's my PRIDE, anyways?

I will not cry.

Bugger.

"Ah... yes. _That_." His lips curls again, slightly. "It must have slipped my mind. Do be more _careful next time _and point it out to me."

That.

That.

ARGH.

GIT!

... I will not cry.

--

"THAT. THAT. _HOW COULD HE BE SO MEAN_?!"

"Ginny?" Hermione looked up from her book in the Common Room.

"That insufferable, cruel, greasy bastard," I snarled.

I hate him. Him and his unwashed hair. And large nose. Overly-large nosed git.

"I presume you mean Snape?" she asked turning a page.

"If by _Snape_ you mean a horrid excuse for a teacher, and a damn bastard, why yes I do mean Snape thank you," I sniffed.

I can cry in front of Hermione. It's all right.

"What did he do this time?" she sighed.

Well.

"It's not what he did, it's how he _treated _me, you see?" Hermione frowned to show that no, she very well did not see.

"You didn't lose your temper, of course."

"You've no faith in me at all, have you." Such a cruel girl.

"I have faith in your blinding temper, yes. And the fact that you let your emotions run wild in mayhem and destruction."

I'm not that irresponsible. I have control over my emotions! Most of the time. Half of the time, anyways.

I opened my mouth for a scathing reply when --

"Oi, what's all this then?"

Harry and a... red-headed figure who slightly resembles my brother, yet has a great gloop of chocolate smeared about his mouth. ... oh wait, Ron often does.

"Ginny got into a row with Snape," Hermione shut her book.

"I... I did not!" Confidentiality, Hermione. Learn it.

"What'd you do?" Ron asked through a mouthful of Honeyduke's chocolate.

"_I, _you should know, did nothing. Snape's the one being a git --"

"Yeah well, that's not much of a surprise, is it?" Harry spoke up.

Do be quiet, dear boy, I'm telling my epic story.

I think my look said that, as he proceeded to shut up and made a motion for me to go on.

"Thank you. As I was saying. Luna and I were making our potion, which was amazing, you should know. It was more than amazing, it was the Merlin of all potions."

It was the Buddha of all potions. It was perfect.

"And, Snape wanted me to test it," I finish, sadly. Dramatically. I expect to be called upon for the Young Witches' Theater.

"And...?" Ron prompted.

"And... that's it. He wanted me to test it. Can you believe it?"

"The nerve," Hermione said dryly.

"I know!"

They're all staring at me funny.

"That's it," repeated Harry.

I nodded my confirmation. Yes. That's it, exactly. Finally some sense, it's a big deal.

"Well, not to burst your bubble, Ginny, but he's never exactly been a gentleman."

I see.

"Well, _fine_," I snap and go up to the dormitory, planning to take a long, long nap.

I'll let them all cohort and talk about Super Important Trio-Hood Business.

--

"Was it really that bad?" Harry asks me again in the nearly empty Common Room.

"I'm studying," I said, annoyed, turning the page of my Potions text.

"The book's upside down," he pointed out.

Why, thank you Harry. Make me feel like a complete idiot.

Hmph.

I'll flip it right-side up if it makes you any more at ease.

"Not anymore. And yes. It was bad, it was one of the most embarrassing moments of my life."

"But... why?" Harry asked flustered.

"Because... I had to explain to him WHY I couldn't take the potion."

Harry stared. "Why couldn't you, by the way?"

Bit slow, really.

My eyes slightly bugged and I gestured jerkily to my stomach.

"Oh."

Yes, oh.

As in 'O, dear me. I completely forgot all about my child that's growing in someone else's WOMB.'

The fireplace sparked grew to life as I replied,

"Yes. Anyways, I said 'I thought you know, Professor Snape,' and he just said '_oh yes. Just be more careful next time_' and to point it out to him! If that wasn't an innuendo I've no idea what it was."

Harry's face darkened.

"Git."

That's what I said!

"Yes, well, I thought you might want to look at this," I muttered, pushing a book off my pile towards him.

"Subject change..." he muttered. Picking up the book he frowned, "Short Spells For Cosmetics: How to Be a New You". Interesting."

"Look inside it!"

Really now, as if I'd modify my appearance.

"Oh. _Oh_. You found this in the library?"

"Yes, but I changed the cover before I checked it out," I replied taking 'A Young Witch's Guide to Pregnancy' back from him.

"It covers basic information, stuff I should be expecting, and... y'know, just general... care." 

"Wow, you're really researching this early."

Of course I am.

I'm not _completely_ irresponsible.

"Well, I figure it would be a good idea. Look, it says I'm to have morning sickness for the first three months. And THAT can't be fixed by potions."

"Eugh."

"I know. It also says that about week nine, it should start moving and kicking. Bit weird, really."

"This is really happening."

Well, of course it is.

Harry frowned.

Why is he frowning? I know it's weird that I'm researching early, and I don't know why I care so much, because I don't even know how it _happened_, but I want to be ready.

I'm not going to cry. Damn. Noooo tears, please go back inside my eyeballs.

"Well, I'm sorry, but maybe I want to be ready for when it actually happens. Maybe – just maybe, I don't want to completely botch up my chance at being an _okay _mother. If you think that's weird, Harry Potter, than you're an unfeeling prat."

"No... no, Ginny, that's not it. I'm just... I've never been responsible for someone's life before."

Stare.

What's he on about? He's responsible for most of the wizarding world.

"No – I mean, raising another life. Taking care of someone. I've never done it before. But... I'm willing to try my best. Do... do they have a book about parenting in the library, also?"

I nod, tears falling, now. Nnaugh. I hate crying. Makes my face and nose go all splotchy-like.

"Sure. I'm... sure they do, if they had this."

"Well, how about we go look at them, then?"

--

I think I may be okay with this.

I mean, sure it'll be tough, but with Harry I think I could do anything.

Oh... who am I kidding? I'm FRIGHTENED OUT OF MY BLOODY MIND. I can't look after a kid! A _baby_. I had to babysit a second cousin two years ago, and I don't think his mum appreciated me accidentally turning his hair pink.

Not much better than red.

Opening the door to the girl's dormitory I find Hermione sitting on my bed, a book open.

"Ginny... what... what is this?" She asks, holding up 'Short Spells For Cosmetics: How to Be a New You'.

"Urk," I squeak.

--

A/N:

Oh, man. I'm terribly sorry, everyone! I feel horrid. This took forever to write. I'm at a mini-block, not sure what to write and what-not. I swear I've been working on this ever since I finished the last chapter. Mind you, there were weeks between working on it, and times when I thought of giving it up... but here it is.

I think now that Hermione knows (or has an idea, rather), the plot should be able to progress nicely. Many thanks to everyone who reviewed and sent their support!

--Emily


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